


Retrospective

by KillClaudio



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Memory Loss, Mission Fic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Linear Narrative, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillClaudio/pseuds/KillClaudio
Summary: Clint and Kate are sent to rescue a—scientist? Probably? Hill definitely said something about Hydra. And this looks like some kind of evil lair?Man, being druggedsucks.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Kate Bishop
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Unconventional Fanwork Exchange 2020





	Retrospective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



#### NOW

Okay, this looked bad.

Specifically, it looked like Clint and Kate huddled in the corridor of some military base while bullets whizzed past their ears. Whatever was happening, it couldn't be good. Clint didn't remember just what _was_ happening, but it was sure to come back to him any second.

Kate rolled up into a crouch and leaned around the corner to put a well-placed acid arrow in the middle of the bad guys. "What is _with_ these guys?"

"Kate!" Clint hissed. "Who's shooting at us?"

She gestured at the minions in green uniforms at the other end of the corridor. "Do you know any _other_ secret organizations who dress like Kermit the Frog on acid?"

"Hey, don't insult Kermit like that." Right. Hydra. Clint totally remembered that part. 

There was a guy in glasses and a lab coat sitting on the other side of the corridor, back to the wall. He looked terrified and miserable and like he was wishing he was anywhere else. Clint knew how he felt. 

The wall of the corridor was cool against his back, and just staying there sounded like a pretty good option right now. His head was spinning, and he recognized the weird blanks in his memory from all the times he'd been SHIELD's guinea pig. SHIELD. Director Hill. That's right—there had been a briefing with Hill, what felt like about a hundred years ago now. Clint might not know exactly what was going on, but the key points of the briefing were still there in his head. Hydra. Scientist. Extraction.

Clint was _great_ at this spy stuff. 

Now if only he could remember the guy's name… "Hey," he said. "Dr. Tremblay? It's okay, we'll get you out of here."

"Hydra drugged you," Tremblay said. 

"Yeah, I can tell. Not the first time. Don't worry about it. Which way is out?"

Tremblay gestured down the hall where bullets were still pinging around. "There's a door down there that's not usually guarded. It's closest to the extraction point."

"Got it," Clint said. "Let's not hang around until they learn how to aim right."

He stood up. That was a mistake. He felt tired, dizzy, nauseous, and there was a pounding headache starting behind his eyes. And something sticky trickling down his leg. Oh, blood. Awesome.

Cautiously, Clint around the corner. The Hydra toughs were all standing underneath a bunch of long fluorescent lights that ran the length of the corridor. He nocked three arrows, held loose between his fingers. "Kate," he hissed. "Psst, Katie."

Kate pulled out three arrows of her own. "I see them, keep your pants on."

They loosed at exactly the same moment, and a split second later six lights exploded, showering the bad guys with shards of glass. They all ducked and covered their eyes, and Clint pulled Tremblay to his feet. 

"Let's go!"

They all backed down the corridor, Clint and Kate providing covering fire while Tremblay rushed ahead and started hauling at the heavy bolts on the door. When he started shoving at the door, Clint got a sudden gut feeling of dread. Something bad was on the other side of that door.

"Kate," he said, "don't get too close."

Kate glared at him between arrows. "To the _door_? Are you nuts? We're supposed to be escaping!"

"It's stuck," Tremblay said. He pushed harder, throwing the weight of his shoulder against, the door, and it gave. Something fell to the floor with a familiar tinkling sound.

Clint's body responded before his mind could catch up, throwing himself at Katie and bringing his arms around her head to protect her as they dropped to the floor and rolled, so that he'd just managed to cover her when a dull 'thoom' echoed in his ears and the wall exploded around them.  


* * *

  


#### SHIELD HELICARRIER, SOMEWHERE OVER SOUTH AMERICA, 0600 HOURS

"His name is Dr Robert Tremblay," Hill said. "He's one of SHIELD's best toxicologists."

"Hill," Clint groaned. "It's the middle of the night." 

"Why do all the briefings have to start at oh-dark-thirty?" Kate asked. She drooped over her coffee, like she was trying to drink it telepathically.

"Because the Director is a sadist."

"Pay attention, Agent Barton. Ms Bishop. You volunteered for rescue missions, and there's a good chance this could be one."

"A good chance?" Kate asked. "You don't even know what kind of mission you're sending us on, Hill?"

Hill pushed two briefing packets across the table towards them. "I know exactly what kind of mission I'm sending you on. I want you to find this man and bring him back here."

Clint flipped open his packet and looked at a man with mousy brown hair, square-frame glasses and a startled expression. "This guy?"

Hill nodded. "Tremblay is undercover with Hydra in one of their labs, trying to uncover details of a new weapon they're developing—and sabotage it, if possible."

"You guys are sending the eggheads undercover now, Hill?" Clint asked. "Getting a little desperate?"

"You think you can read any of the lab notes from Hydra's scientists, Barton, you let me know. We'd be happy to send you instead."

"What does he need extracting for?"

"He was supposed to be in regular communication with his handler, but he's missed the last three check-ins."

"Any idea what happened to him?" Kate asked.

"There's been no ransom demand, and we haven't intercepted anything on Hydra's private channels."

"So no idea, then?"

"No, Ms Bishop. That's what I have you for."

"What kind of weapon?" Kate asked. "Deadly virus? Zombie robots? Inter-dimensional bomb? Evil rabbits?"

Hill paused for a fraction of a second. "We think it's some kind of poison gas."

"Again? These guys seriously need to get some new moves."

"And we seriously need to prevent them from developing this weapon. If Tremblay's been compromised, bring back all the data you can find for our teams to go over. The building plans are in your pack. I trust you can find your own way in. And out."

"Any civilians around we need to be worried about?" Clint asked.

"Negative. The base is in the middle of nowhere."

Clint groaned. "Middle of nowhere? Don't tell us…"

"You'll be dropped into Antarctica at 1100. You have two hours to grab Tremblay and get back to the extraction point."

"Snow. Awesome. Hill, I ever tell you how happy I am when you call?"

"No, Barton, you never have."

"There's a reason for that."  


* * *

  


#### FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO.

They made it to the end of the corridor before the goons appeared behind them. There was a cry of alarm as they were spotted, and then the three of them were racing down the corridor for the stairwell, swerving around the corner and—and backing up abruptly as a totally different group of Hydra goons came stomp-stomping down the corridor towards them, and raising their guns. Behind, the ones who had been chasing were doing the same thing. 

Jeez, these guys were dumb.

"Hey, doc," Clint said. "I tell you that I used to be in the circus? Me and the acrobats had this move, for the final act—well, anyway, point is, on three you need to—"

" _Duck!_ " Kate yelled, and they both dragged Tremblay to the ground as the goons opened fire on each other. 

In the chaos they launched themselves down another curving passageway that finally brought them back out at the top of the stairwell. Kate slid down the rail ahead of them while Clint covered their six behind the slower Tremblay, then they reached the bottom and dashed for the door that would hopefully lead them to—

To a supply closet, apparently. It was a dead end. The door that would actually take them towards the exit was back up above them, and it was now being covered by half a dozen of Hydra's worst.

"Fuck." Clint leaned back against the wall, careful not to put weight on his injured leg. "We're pinned down."

"Now what?"

Kate kicked the wall in frustration. A chunk of plaster flew out and landed out in plain view, prompting a hail of bullets. 

A hail of bullets that landed at least a foot away from the plaster. Clint looked at it. Hydra might be dumb, but their aim wasn't that bad. He picked up a couple of bits of plaster and threw them out into the line of fire, and again the bullets didn't come close.

"They're missing," Clint said. "They're deliberately missing."

"What do you me—Clint!"

Clint launched himself across the open space, praying to any god who would listen. Shots fired all around him, but like a miracle they landed in the wall to either side of him. He rolled to a stop just beyond the doors, knocked a smoke arrow to his bow, and fired.

The smoke explosion covered the goons, and Kate darted forward, dragging Tremblay with her under cover of the chaos.

"What just happened?" Clint asked.

"Never mind that," Kate said. She pointed down the last corridor. "We're nearly there. Come on!"

But the corridor seemed to last forever. Clint had landed on his bad leg when he jumped, and now it hurt too badly to do much but limp. "Kate," he said. "Need to stop a minute. Just a second. Get my breath."

"Oh, brother." Kate pulled them all into a covered angle of the corridor and peered around the corner. Shouts of 'Hail Hydra!' could be heard getting closer. "Do these idiots even know how to say anything else? Here they come…"  


* * *

  


#### SECRET HYDRA BASE, ANTARCTICA. 1100 HOURS.

They were dropped on a wide patch of featureless snow that looked exactly the same as all the other miles of snow, ice, and more snow all around them. 

Clint moved cautiously across the rough ground, wary of the sharp cliff edge hidden just out of sight. The base was built directly into the side of the cliff, where any approach from ground level would have them easily spotted by sentries, watchtower staff, or anyone taking a casual glance out the window. Instead they'd been dropped right above the compound, where a brief scramble brought them down onto the roof.

"Welp," Kate said, "guess it's gonna be a long climb down."

"After you, Hawkeye."

"Thank you, Hawkeye."

The only rooftop entrance was through a long tunnel that vented various noxious fumes from the research labs. As they rappelled down, Clint complained about Hydra and their stupid slogans, about Maria Hill calling them in the middle of the night, and about scientists who couldn't leave anything alone, until he realized it would be better not to breathe so much.

Finally they dropped down into the maintenance room at the bottom of the shaft. Clint eased the doors open carefully, so as not to disturb the guards standing with their back to them. 

"Whale Hydra!" Kate said loudly, and when they swung round she and Clint neatly knocked them out. 

"'Whale Hydra'?" Clint asked as they stepped over the bodies.

"Hey, that was funny."

"Kate, Kate. Thought I taught you better banter than that."

"Okay, shut up. Which way is Tremblay?"

Clint gestured. "His lab's on the other side of the building."

"Of course it is."

They moved down the corridor as quietly as possible, checking around corners for evil minions. Clint let Kate take point, while he swept the corridor behind them.

"What we need are disguises," Kate said. "If we look like Hydra, we can just grab Tremblay and walk right out of here."

"Sure. Two Hydra guys with a bow and arrow. Totally normal. Nothing to see here."

"They're so dumb they probably won't even notice." Kate opened the nearest door. "Empty lab." She peeked into the next as they went past. "Empty lab. Empty lab."

"Can you not do that? Some of them might not be empty."

"It's deserted up here. Empty lab. Empty lab. Don't these guys have a locker room, a closet, anything? Conference room. Empty lab." She paused, listening. "Hey, do you hear—?"

Footsteps were echoing down one of the weird curving corridors. "In here," Clint whispered, and dragged her through the nearest door before the lackeys coming down the corridor could spot them.

"Oh, hey," Kate said, her voice muffled in the dark by the rows of uniforms hanging around them. "A closet."

They stood quietly until the marching footsteps had gone, and then Kate eased the door open and looked around. "All clear," she said, stepping out into the corridor. She turned back to look at Clint. "Do you want to—WOAH!"

Clint leaped and swung around, arrow aimed where Kate was pointing behind him, and together they stared at the motionless form of Robert Tremblay standing at the back of the closet, eyes open and staring straight ahead. He didn't even blink.

"Is he dead?" Kate whispered.

"Dead and standing up?" Clint asked. He reached out a cautious hand and poked Tremblay in the arm. He felt very solid, and very cold. "That's not Tremblay, Kate. It's not human."

"Wait a second, it's one of those creepy-ass robots, the ones Madame Masque was keeping in her basement."

"Life model decoys. Yeah, it sure as hell looks like one."

"What's it doing here? Did Hydra make it? Did SHIELD? And again, what the hell is it doing here?"

"I knew there'd be something else going on with this mission," Clint said glumly. "Maria Hill sucks."

"Whatever." Kate slammed the closet door shut. "I don't want to look at it. Let's just get the _real_ Tremblay and get out of here."  


* * *

  


#### THIRTY MINUTES AGO.

They weaved down the corridor. Clint couldn't remember exactly where they were going. Hydra were following them. His leg hurt. He was limping. He really, really needed to sit down. 

"Drugged," Clint rasped. He could taste it, a vile bitterness clinging to the back of his throat. It was hard to hold on to a thought for more than a few seconds. He was sure they'd just been talking to someone—two someones?—but the more he tried to grasp at the thought, the more it slipped away.

"Yeah, me too." Kate looked at him. "Jesus, Clint, you're bleeding real bad. I need to look at that. Stop a minute."

"We can't stop a minute, someone is going to start shooting at us any second now."

"We're not going to make it out of here if you collapse from blood loss." Kate dragged him to sit in a corner and Clint went, too weak to resist much. "Let me get a look at this. Barton, what did you do to yourself?"

"Don't remember," Clint said. "Everything's fuzzy."

Kate pushed Clint's flapping pant leg up. "Damn it. It's impossible to tie these stupid things tight enough. I need something better. Doc, can I borrow your belt?"

"Hmm? What?" Tremblay was looking down the corridor. "I'm not wearing one. You know, we really shouldn't hang around."

"Yeah, yeah, minions are going to menace us any second, I get it." Kate snapped a bungee cord off her belt and used it to shore up the scrap of fabric that was holding Clint's wound shut. "This needs to be tighter. Let me just—" She broke off. 

"What? What is it?"

"Did you write this?"

Clint squinted down. Scrawled in block capitals above his knee were the words: 'GET THE BAG'.

"I don't remember."

"Looks like your handwriting. What bag?"

"I don't remember, Kate! I don't remember anything."

"Pretty bad memo then, huh? Let me fix your tourniquet."

Clint looked away while Kate jury-rigged a bandage, trying to distract himself from the pain. A bag? A bag. What kind of bag? The only person who had a bag was Tremblay. A scary-looking pathology bag with bright yellow hazard symbols on the side.

"Doc?" Clint said. "I'm afraid to ask, but what's that you're holding?"

"Oh, this? It's a prototype of the weapon Hydra are developing. It's truly remarkable—the airborne poisons are atomized and then circulated through the ventilation system—our toxicologists are going to be so excited—"

"Uh, would that be a _working_ prototype?"

"Of course. We need samples of the toxins for study. Don't worry, it's quite safe as long as we're careful."

"And we're planning on just walking right into SHIELD with this stuff? In, and I know I keep mentioning this, a bag?"

"Please, Agent Barton. I'm transporting it myself. I'd hardly risk my own life, would I?"

" _You_ wouldn't. I know some other guys who might. Are you sure you don't want me to take—" Clint broke off as a shout of 'Hail Hydra' came from nearby.

Tremblay wrung his hands. "We really _must_ go."

"Okay, okay, I'm done." Kate pulled Clint's pant leg back down and hauled him to his feet. While he was getting his balance, she grabbed an arrow from her quiver and listened as the sound of thumping steps came closer. "Wait for it…"

She loosed the arrow just as the first of them rounded the corner. It exploded in a choking cloud of black smoke, blinding the thugs who ran headlong into it.

"Hail Hawkeye!" Kate yelled, and they took off running.  


* * *

  


#### SECRET HYDRA BASE, ANTARCTICA. 11:26.

They paused at the door to Tremblay's lab.

"He doesn't know we're coming," Clint said. "We don't want to scare him. Knock on the door."

"Why me?"

"You're less intimidating."

"I am _not_ —oh, c'mon—" Kate rolled her eyes and knocked on the door. "Dr Tremblay?" She pushed it open. "Hi!"

There was a clatter and the sound of several small and breakable objects smashing to tiny pieces on the floor, and then a nervous voice said, "Who are you?"

Clint stuck his head around the door. The man standing in the lab was a perfect match to his photo; mousy brown hair, glasses, startled expression. Guess there was a good reason for the last one.

"We're with SHIELD," Clint said helpfully. "Hill sent us to pick you up."

The startled expression didn't waver. Apparently that was just Tremblay's face. "Now? But you're not supposed to be here yet—I'm not finished—the delivery mechanism needs fine tuning—"

"Whoa there, doc. It's not safe for you to be here without any way to communicate with SHIELD. Speak of which, what happened?"

"Communicate?" Tremblay looked blank. "Oh, my check in. The storms here interfere with the radio equipment. I tried several times, but it's difficult to be certain of privacy…"

"Okay, well grab your notes and let's book it."

"Right. Absolutely. Yes. I need the prototype of the weapon we've been developing—it's the most advanced stage of the research—we'll have to—in the other lab. I'll just get it." He darted towards the door and turned. "You just, um. Stay here. I'll be right back."

"Damn," Kate said, as the door shut behind him. "That guy is jumpy." She started prowling around the lab, poking at various racks of test tubes and piles of paperwork. "Clint, there's something wrong here. Tremblay's all squirrelly. His freaky doppelganger is sitting in a cupboard upstairs. Hill didn't mention any of this."

"Hill doesn't mention much," Clint slumped against the workbench and they stared at each other in silence for a minute. "You want to shake the place down, don't you?"

"It's called recon, and come _on_. Look, Tremblay's laptop is right there."

Clint shrugged. "I'll play lookout."

But he'd barely been standing at the door for a minute before Kate was calling him back to look at what she'd found. "They're not even bothering to disguise it! It's like they're so damn sure no one can figure them out that they've just stopped trying. Will you look at this?"

'This' was a huge, layered map of the Helicarrier, with detailed plans of every single room; every lab, conference room, personal quarters, even the supply cupboards and cleaning closet. As Kate moved through the files, dozens of close ups flicked across the screen, showing fans, air conditioning ducts, ventilation units. 

"Guess we know who Hydra's target is now. Like we couldn't have guessed."

"That is Messed. Up," Kate said. "How the hell did they get Helicarrier schematics? Do we have a mole?"

Arrows demonstrated the flow of air in every direction, all of them starting from a single point in the docking bay where an aircraft would land and spreading out across every inch of the carrier. That was where patient zero needed to be. 

It was a perfect, comprehensive plan that would poison every person on the Helicarrier and bring the whole of SHIELD to its knees in the space of two or three hours. All it needed was someone to walk through the front doors. Clint had a sinking feeling he knew who the patsy was.

"If this was their plan for the weapon," Clint said slowly, "then they need someone to walk straight onto the Helicarrier with it." 

"Like that's going to happen."

"Oh yeah? What are we planning on doing right now? Tremblay's getting the doohickey to bring back with us. What if Hydra rigged it somehow?"

"Rigged it?"

"Yeah, you know. To explode or something." Clint rubbed the back of his neck. "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

"No, I get you." Kate traced a finger through the plans hanging in the air. "You think they've known about Tremblay this whole time?"

"Could be. What if they worked it out and decided to use our own damn plan against us?"

Kate smacked her palm to her forehead. "The communicator! They've been blocking the signal on purpose so we'd come down and get him."

"There's no way we can let him bring that weapon into the middle of the Helicarrier. Come on, we have to stop him."  


* * *

  


#### FORTY-FIVE MINUTES AGO.

Clint figured they'd been locked in, but when he tried the door handle it gave easily. He shrugged at the expression on Kate's face. "Dumb bad guys are the best kind of bad guys."

They found Tremblay at the far end of the corridor, a deep frown on his face. His expression lightened when he saw them. "Oh, thank god. Agent Barton? Agent Bishop? I'm Dr Robert Tremblay—"

"We know, doc," Clint assured him. "Hill briefed us. We're here to get you out. Uh, which way is out?"

"There's a stairwell this way." Tremblay started leading them down the corridor. "Where's the extraction point?"

"A lump of snow and rock, about three hundred yards south of the building." Clint's head felt fuzzy. He was sure he'd been having an important thought a second ago, but now he couldn't remember what it was. "I feel weird. Does anyone else feel weird?"

"You were drugged," Tremblay said absently. "Hydra's been experimenting with memory control. There's a door at the south end of the building that's not usually guarded. That's our best bet at getting out undetected. Please try to be quiet."

They crept down the corridor, Tremblay trying to balance a pile of folders and a padded pathology bag in his arms. The corridors merged and split with no obvious logic, curving around corners and disappearing. The place was like a damn maze. Clint swung his bow from left to right, eyes peeled for movement. He felt twitchy.

"Hey," Kate said. "Why isn't anyone shooting at us?"

"You're _complaining_ about that?" Clint asked.

"I'm just saying—"

"I was undercover, Ms Bishop," Tremblay interrupted. "They don't know yet that I'm really with SHIELD. Keep moving, please."

"But we must have been made, right?" Kate asked. "You said they drugged us. Which 'they'? Hydra? Do they know where we are? Why wasn't the door locked?"

Tremblay blinked at her slowly. "That's right," he said. "That seems suspicious, doesn't it? Hydra aren't pursuing us. That would make anyone suspicious. If we get away without a fight, it will seem too easy."

O- _kay_. Some of SHIELD's scientists had gone a long time without normal human contact, but that was weird even by their standards. "Are you okay, doc?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm just thinking." Tremblay gave them an absent-minded smile. "Fortunately, another few minutes and you will both have forgotten this conversation."

Clint jerked around and stared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Easy, Clint." Kate put a hand on his arm.

"I'm so sorry, I only meant that one of the unfortunate side effects of the drug—"

"Just get us downstairs," Clint said firmly. 

"Of course, of course. Please give me a moment." Tremblay pulled out his phone and started typing.

"Is this really the time or the place, doc?"

"Ms Bishop was just asking for people to shoot at us. I'm merely helping her." Tremblay cocked his head to the side. Faintly, the sound of boots could be heard getting closer. "Here they come now. We ought to get moving."  


* * *

  


#### SECRET HYDRA BASE, ANTARCTICA. 11:44.

Clint and Kate crept down the corridor, listening. Tremblay could be clearly heard behind the door of the lab, talking to one of the other Hydra scientists. They'd have to wait until he was alone. 

"Pull back," Clint whispered. "When he comes back to the lab we'll explain."

"Wait." Kate was listening intently to the conversation on the other side of the door. "They're talking about the weapon."

"Why? The Hydra guys aren't going to stop him if they—" The expression on Kate's face made Clint's stomach clench. "What?"

"Clint. If you were a Hydra scumbag who'd worked out you had a mole, for what would you need the robot?"

Clint shrugged. "You wouldn't."

"Right. But if you wanted to target SHIELD without risking your own life…"

"…then why keep an LMD and carry the poisonous gas yourself? Oh my god. It's Tremblay."

"Very good, Hawkeyes."

Clint leaped and swung around, but hands were reaching out to grab his bow before he could even take aim. Half a dozen thugs grabbed hold of his arms and legs and held him there, facing—Tremblay?

He looked back over his shoulder, where the first Tremblay was opening the door. "I might have known you wouldn't stay where I put you. Bring them in here and tie them to the chair."

They were hauled into the room and handcuffed, while the two Tremblays—dammit, Clint really couldn't tell which was which—finished packing up the sample case. 

"The trigger goes in just here, you see?" One of the Tremblays showed them, smiling benignly the whole time, while the other one inserted a tiny silver device into a heavily padded pathology bag covered in hazard signs. "All I have to do is pull, and everything will shatter. The box is cushioned, of course. Don't want to go off too early, heh heh."

"There were no storms, were there?" Clint asked.

"Of course not. I needed extraction so that I'd be taken aboard the Helicarrier instead of shipped back to headquarters. This weapon was specifically designed to work with the Helicarrier's ventilation system."

"What the hell _for_?" Kate sounded outraged. "You're going to murder a bunch of your former colleagues just for kicks?"

"Hydra has persuaded me of the merits of its approach," Tremblay The First said with a smile. "And it's not possible for us to do the great scientific research we're capable of with SHIELD always nipping at our heels. This is the only way. Unfortunately, I don't have time to persuade you of the same thing."

"Not a chance, pal," Kate spat at him.

"Happily, there's an easier way," said Tremblay The Second. "You won't even know it's happening. Almost completely painless." He gestured to two of the goons behind them. Something sharp sank into the side of Clint's neck, then was roughly yanked out again. 

"You're drugging us?"

"Hydra have made some extraordinary progress with drugs that affect the memory. This one is fascinating—it destroys your short term memory, while leaving everything else intact. It's impossible to remember anything for more than a few minutes. Don't worry, it will only last a couple of hours. Long enough to get back to the Helicarrier and get the ball rolling. Of course, at that point you'll have a whole different problem." 

Tremblay The First ushered the goons out of the room, followed by the LMD. 

"My counterpart here will be waiting at the end of the corridor when you come out so you can take him onto the Helicarrier. Not that you'll remember any of it, of course." He headed for the door and turned, one hand on the handle. "Oh, one more thing. I'm afraid we're on a clock, so I'm going to have to give you both an incentive to urgency." He pulled the sidearm out of his holster and aimed at Clint's leg. "Now, hold very still."

Clint jerked in the chair automatically, not that it made a difference. The bullet burned as it tore through the muscle of his thigh and lodged itself in the floor behind him, taking a chunk of flesh with it. Blood started to flow sluggishly down his leg.

"Pretty sure I didn't hit an artery," Tremblay said cheerfully. "Twenty minutes." The door slammed behind him.  


* * *

  


#### SIXTY MINUTES AGO.

Kate got out of the handcuffs first, and let them drop to the floor as she rushed over to Clint. 

"Damn, this looks really bad. Do we have anything I can use as a torniquet?"

"Um." Clint tried to think past the pain. "Bandana? Probably in my pocket."

"Good," Kate said. She ripped his pant leg open with a single slice of her penknife and got to work.

Tying the tourniquet was agonizing. Clint concentrated on getting out of his own cuffs with the pick Kate handed him, and by the time she was done there was only a slight trickle of blood coming from the wound. 

"That's not going to hold for long," Kate said. "I need something stronger."

"That don't matter now. Kate, we have to stop this guy. Otherwise in an hour we're going to walk onto the Helicarrier like the Trojan Horse and murder everyone."

"I'm not sure the—you know what, never mind. What are we gonna do?"

"Hand me one of the splodie arrows. I'm going to destroy the LMD."

"What good will that do? They'll just build another one, and keep us drugged the whole time. Or send our bodies back to Hill with the weapon in our caskets. Great plan, Clint."

"Maybe we can get a message to Hill somehow—"

"How?" Kate scrubbed a hand over her face. She pulled a bomb arrow out of the quiver and held it balanced on her fingers, testing the weight. "He'll most probably take us out of the south door—it's closest to the extraction site. If I could wedge it between the door and the frame…do any of these things have a timer?"

Clint shook his head. But he could see where Kate was going now, and how they might get there. "Putty arrow. Rip it off the end, stick it around the explosives."

"Gotcha." Kate grabbed the arrows and Clint's penknife and set to work. 

The end of the bomb arrow was weighted, the trigger buried in the tip. Kate packed putty in a ring around the end, cushioning the trigger from the impact of firing. The putty would stick to the door, and when it was opened the arrow would drop off, hit the floor on its side, and explode. Hopefully.

"And blow us up too," Clint protested. If it was only his own life he wouldn't care, but to drag Kate down with him…

"Maybe not. You'll be slow, you'll be far enough behind."

"What about you, Katie? I don't want—"

"I'll be next to you, dumbass. Probably holding you up. Hush now." Kate stood, and tested the weight and balance of the arrow one more time, then nocked it to her bow. She leaned out of the window, trying to get a bead on the door. "I can't reach from this angle. Come here and hold me steady."

Clint heaved himself out of the chair and stood behind Kate, one hand gripping her belt to balance her weight. She hitched her hips up over the window frame and leaned out at a dizzying angle, balanced carefully with fifty feet of air beneath her and her bow loose and steady in her grip.

Back muscles tightened and locked. She slowed her breathing. Exhaled. Relaxed her hand. The arrow sang through the air and hit perfectly at the point where the door met the frame, lodged precariously at hand level.

She really was the most gifted bowman he'd ever seen. 

"Good job, Katie-Kate." Clint hauled her back in and sank back on the chair before he collapsed. He tried to calm his pulse, bringing down the steady beat of his heart so he wouldn't lose too much blood. "Hey, Kate, do you have a pen?"

"A _pen_? Do you have a head wound too?"

"Yes, a pen, come on." Clint could feel everything starting to get fuzzy around the edges as the drugs took hold. He remembered Kate shooting the arrow out of the window, but the reasons were fading… he tried to hold on to the thought he wanted to write down. "Please, Kate."

"Don't know why you think I'm some kinda walking convenience store…" Kate rummaged through her pockets until she found a sharpie. "Here."

Clint uncapped the pen and carefully dragged up the pant leg on his injured side, then just above his knee he wrote: GET THE BAG.

Kate looked at him. "Seriously, Barton?"

Clint shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

"You can't even remember what we're doing here?"

"What? No, that's not it. He's—he's the one who—wait, what?"

"Time to get up, superhero." Kate pulled Clint to his feet and slung his arm across her shoulders. "We've got a scientist to extract."

 _Explosion,_ Clint thought to himself. He tried with everything he had to push the thought to the front of his brain. _Keep Kate back. Keep Kate safe_. "Stick close to me, okay?"

"Of course, dummy." Kate poked him. "Gotta be here to save your butt."  


* * *

  


#### SECRET HYDRA BASE, ANTARCTICA. NOW

"Damn," Clint said. He hauled himself to his feet and balanced carefully against the wall. "Hydra booby traps aren't what they used to be."

Kate shook debris and plaster dust out of her hair. "You okay there, Hawkeye?" At Clint's nod, she added, "Doc? Everything ok—oh no."

Tremblay was lying prone in the snow. He wasn't moving. Kate rushed over and pressed her fingers to the side of his neck. 

"I can't find a pulse. Oh my god, Clint, I think he might be—" she broke off, looking at the back of his head, and then said in a completely different tone, "—a robot?"

Tremblay had been thrown a dozen feet in the blast, and where he should have been bleeding from his scalp, a mess of wires and sharp metal bits were poking out.

"Wow," Clint said. He didn't have the energy for much else. He limped out into the snow and stared down at the—Body? Android? Doppelganger? "That's—yeah, so that's—wow. And right on time, here comes the cavalry."

A SHIELD helicopter was landing on a clear patch of snow just above the building, and a dozen SHIELD agents, guns drawn, were running low across the ground towards them.

"Guess he's Hill's problem now," Kate said. She carefully picked up the bag Tremblay had been carrying and tucked it under one arm, and together they shuffled towards the helicopter, leaving the other agents to collect Tremblay.

"Oh, man," Clint said, "debriefing with Hill is going to be _so much_ fun."


End file.
